


Price of Victory, The

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, Drama, Episode: s04e07 Election Night, Episode: s04e08 Process Stories, M/M, Missing Scene, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-17
Updated: 2008-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-31 08:16:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15115427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: Tonight should have been the illusion of no worries.  It would be impossible to recapture.





	Price of Victory, The

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

“We need to talk.” Sam took Sean by the elbow, leading him out of CJ’s office and toward his own.

The bullpens were insane tonight. The Deputy Communications Director was only able to give quick hellos and waves to well wishers, promising to talk to people as soon as he could.

“It was a madhouse trying to get in tonight. Security was about to give me a full body cavity search when Bonnie happened to walk by and vouch for me. Don’t let me forget to send her flowers or something.”

“I have to go to California.” Sam said, closing the door and looking at him.

“Why? Are your mom and dad alright? What happened?”

Sam looked so jittery, as if he was about to leap out of his own skin. Sean watched as he formed words, changed his mind, reformed, and then gave up.

“Hey, hey Seaborn, what's up?” he put his hands on Sam’s shoulders. “You can tell me anything…just tell me.”

“Do you remember a while ago when I went out to California?”

“Of course. Will Bailey and the dead candidate. What about it?”

“I had lunch with the candidate’s widow. She and her husband worked so hard for the greater good. She needed so someone willing to run in the special election if Wilde won. I said I would.”

“You said what!”

“He was not supposed to win.” Sam reasoned. “I'm not saying I made an empty promise, I just…he was not supposed to win. I grew up in Newport Beach; Democrats never win.”

“Your theory has been shot to hell tonight.”

“It rained.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“How often do we see rainstorms like that in Southern California? They got an inch and a half today. Studies show that the trend is to vote after work instead of before. Inclement weather after 5pm leads to a lower voter turnout in the substantial 18 to 49 group. It fucking rained.”

“I do not believe this.”

“Honey…”

“No, lets back up a little bit.” Sean said. “I need to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“Alright.”

Sean took a deep breath. He sat down on the edge of Sam’s desk so he could stop pacing. He needed a stiff drink and a Motrin.

“You went to California to stop Will Bailey but it didn’t work. You sat down with the candidate’s widow, maybe to get her to talk down Bailey. Yet somehow, you end up promising her that you’ll run if he wins, which you're sure he won't. Then, ta-da, due to unforeseeable weather patterns and studies taken God knows when, the dead guy emerges victorious.”

“I think you're being...”

“I'm being what? Sam, this is insane. Just tell her you can't do it. Who in their right mind runs in a campaign doomed from the start? Let’s not even mention the carpetbagger issue. What about your job…what about us?”

“I have to resign my position as Deputy White House Communications Director.” Sam replied.

“For what?”

“To run for…”

“It was rhetorical!”

“Why are you shouting?”

“Because this is utterly ridiculous, Sam!”

“It isn’t going to affect us.”

“Really? So you quitting your job, moving 3000 miles away for an indeterminate amount of time, and losing a campaign won't affect us. Enlighten me, what happens after? Will you stay in California? Where will you work? How long do you think I will wait? Should I even bother?”

Sam didn’t know what to say. He was more confused and apprehensive than before. He really tried to see it from Sean’s point of view. This was a crazy situation. There was so much running through his mind, if Sam could slam it into a wall to make it stop then he would. When he woke up this morning, he was sure of everything. Now the foundation under his feet slipped away.

“You’ve been apprehensive about moving in with me. I've done my best to be understanding; it is a big step. I knew the Election was top priority and I wanted what you wanted, Sam. Well it’s Election Night; our guy won. Now you decide to tell me that you're quitting your job and leaving me?”

“I am not leaving you.”

“I don’t live in California.”

“It’s just a thing.” Sam was exasperated. “Why are you being like this? I am going to do this and then come back.”

“If this is just a thing then why didn’t you tell me about it after you said it? The last time I checked we did not keep things from each other. Certainly not when they would affect our relationship. You completely blindsided me.”

“I don’t have to answer for that.”

“Yeah, I know. It might be better if I just go home.”

“We were supposed to be celebrating.” Sam positioned himself in front of the door. Did he really think he could stop Sean from leaving? The last thing he needed tonight was for anything to get physical.

“Celebrating what?” Sean asked.

“Our victory. I want…I want to be with you tonight.”

“I want to be with you too. What about tomorrow, or next month? You're unsure Sam, so I am going to give you some space to figure it out. Goodnight.”

“Please…don’t leave.” Sam could hardly whisper. Actually, his throat was closing and he struggled to breathe.

He moved toward Sean but the older man avoided the contact. The path to the door was clear so he took it. He walked out on Sam, even though it broke his heart.

***

If life were a feature film, this would be the scene when Sean grabbed the bourbon and drank straight from the bottle. Sad music would play in the background, maybe _Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word_. He would go through various stages of drunken anguish as the song droned on. In the next scene, Sean would still be alone. Three days growth would be on his face and he would have the worst hangover of his life.

Well, life was not a movie. This was not the breakup scene. The last time Sean checked he bore no resemblance to Greg Kinnear or anyone else who would star in one of those films. He grabbed the half six-pack of Samuel Adams from the fridge. Then he went into the living room and fell into his leather Laz-E-Boy. As soon as he reclined back, Yuri jumped into his lap.

Sean wanted the company tonight. Cozette, Yuri’s sister, looked up from her bed but deemed her sad sack owner unworthy of her attention at the moment. Yuri and Cozette were Abyssinian kittens, barely a year old. They were a housewarming gift from Sean’s best friend Dan and his wife Carly. Sean fell in love with them immediately.

Yuri was ruddy colored, with reddish brown fur, black paw pads and hind legs. Cozette was the color of cinnamon with chocolate paw pads and hind legs. They were exquisite, happy, and playful creatures. At first Sean feared he worked too much to give them proper love and care. Dan assured him that the cats kept each other company and would be there for him after long days on Capitol Hill.

Sean was happy he listened to his friend. Yuri loved to cuddle with Sean before he fell asleep. Though Cozette was more aloof, she did let Sean cuddle her sometimes. She also found walking across his computer keypad while he used it to be a worthwhile adventure. Sean took a swig of his beer. He stroked Yuri’s head, enjoying the way the cat purred against his hand.

Grabbing the stereo remote, he turned on the CD player. Sean decided as soon as he moved that he only wanted music or peace in this room. His large screen television was in the den, which was the perfect size for entertaining. So far, only a few friends came to visit. Sean had only been there for six weeks and he worked too much. The voice of Carly Simon filled the room.

_I have no need for half of anything_  
No half time, no half a man’s attention  
Give me all of the earth and sky  
And at the same time, add a new dimension  
Half of the truth is of no use  
Give it all, give it all to me  
I can stand it, I am strong that way 

The key turned in the lock; Sam walked in the front door. He closed and locked the door behind him but stood in the vestibule for a while. He heard Carly Simon, which meant that Sean was on the other side of the wall. He still didn’t know what to say. Sam knew that Sean was right about keeping things from him and being hesitant about moving in together. Not that he had viable explanations for his behavior. The Deputy took a deep breath and walked into the living room.

“Hi.” Well that was as good a start as any.

“Hey. You want a beer?”

Sean handed him a bottle and Sam popped it open. He took another deep breath.

“I went about some things all wrong and I need to apologize for that.”

“Sam, if you don’t want to be with me I think that’s something that I should be made aware of right now.”

“I don’t want to be anywhere but.” Sam replied.

“Well I'm here and you're off to see the Wizard.”

“I made a promise. No, I never expected to fulfill it and maybe that was silly of me. Promises are important to me.”

Sam sat on the couch to the left of the chair. Sean didn’t look at him. While Yuri grew tired of being spoiled and ran off to play, Paula Cole asked where had all the cowboys gone. An excellent question indeed.

“I used the reelection to distract myself from things I didn’t want to think about. I convinced myself that Wilde would lose, Bartlet would win, and that was that. I convinced myself at the same time that this time would never end and I would not have to face my fear about us. Actually, fear is the wrong word. It’s…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Sean said.

“Don’t worry about what?”

“We haven’t been together long. I jumped the gun that night, asking you to move in with me. I knew that I had but it was so hard to backtrack. You didn’t know how to say that you weren’t ready and I ignored the multiple clues that didn’t follow the plans in my heart.”

“I want to be ready.” Sam whispered. “I do.”

“It’s not the same thing. We are moving too fast; I am pushing too hard. We shouldn’t do anything if you are uncertain.”

“Sean…”

Sighing, Sean joined Sam on the couch. He took both of the younger man’s hands.

“I should never have asked you.”

“What? Why would you say something like that? Are you trying to break my heart?” Sam’s voice cracked and he tried to clear his throat.

“No baby, no. I want as few misunderstandings as possible. So much happened so quickly…we were caught up in this whirlwind. As exciting as it was it was damn scary too but I think we thought if we ignored scary it would go away. Take a deep breath, Seaborn.”

Sam did and then tried to smile.

“I love you Sean. I have never felt this way before. I just…it’s so new for me yet I feel too old to make silly mistakes. Sometimes I'm not sure how I should be handling it.”

“I know, and I love you too. Don’t nod and follow me. If you feel something or need something, please tell me. The truth can hurt but its better because burying it will just make it worse. I want you to take my hand and come along. That requires you being ready.”

“My lease is up on December 31st.”

“Renew it; see if you can get a month to month. Most of that time will be spent in California anyway…you have 90 days to hold a special election. Have you considered what may happen if you win?”

“I'm not going to win.” Sam replied with a smirk.

“The late Mr. Wilde would disagree. You have to at least think about it baby.”

“If I win, I will serve. It will be two years, I will be here with you, and I will not seek a second term.”

“You might fall in love with it.” Sean reasoned.

“I'm not ready. Someday maybe, the President seems to think so, but the time is not now.”

“If you lose will you go back to the White House?”

“I don't know. I will ask Will Bailey to help Toby with the Inauguration speech; he owes me that much. After that, I'm unsure. I will face it when the time comes. Right now I have to make this sudden campaign my top priority. I just don’t want you to be angry with me because the idea makes me nauseous.”

“Well I was; I was pissed. I'm scared too Sam…it’s not just you. I fell so hard for you, like Alice down the rabbit hole. One minute I was leading my rather humdrum existence and the next I was in love again. I don’t think tonight is a good time to talk about all of this.”

“We don’t have a lot of time before I go to California.”

Sean nodded. He was exhausted tonight. They should have been celebrating; they should have been making love. Tonight should have been the illusion of no worries. It would be impossible to recapture. He thought sleep was a better idea…the morning light would bring clarity.

He stood, stretching his arms high over his head. He turned off the stereo before reaching for Sam. They went up the stairs together and into the master bedroom. Exhaling, Sean ran his fingers through Sam’s thick black brown hair. He loosened his tie and then pulled it over his head. Sam pulled his dress shirt out of his slacks while Sean unbuttoned it. Throwing it onto the chair, Sam took off his Hanes tee shirt. It was impossible for Sean not to stroke Sam’s naked chest. Like a fine piece of marble, hard and cool, he ran his fingers across the muscles.

Sam went straight for Sean’s Dockers, which made his lover smile. It was good to see that even if it lasted for mere moments. Sean pulled the Polo sweater over his head and shook the slacks off his feet. He let Sam use his shoulder for balance to get out of his shoes. Both down to their underwear, Sean turned down the bed. He had to admit a strong liking for Sam’s ritual of undressing each other…it eased some of the tension.

“Take off your boxers.” Sam said.

“I'm sorry?”

“Take off your boxers, Sean. You're not going to need them.”

The command in his lover’s voice turned him on. He pushed them off his hips, putting them in the hamper by the closet door.

“Mmm, you are so handsome Sean Christensen. I am quite the lucky boy.”

“Get in bed, lucky.”

Sam grinned, shaking off his boxer briefs before climbing under the blanket and comforter. He turned off the lamp and cuddled in Sean’s arms. Oh my God, how would he survive for months in California without his touch? How would he survive a day?

“Congratulations.” Sean whispered.

“What?”

“You won tonight…congratulations. I'm really proud of you.”

"I had so much help. Like Donna. The new absentee ballots confused her and she ended up accidentally voting for Ritchie.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. So she stood outside of a voting station for hours until she convinced a Republican to vote for Bartlet to even it out. That’s dedication, Sean. I took her muffins and coffee.”

“Because you're wonderful.”

“Even if I hurt you?”

“We are going to have fights, Sam. There are going to be times when I hurt you too. It won't change us, only make us better. I promise.”

“So I can kiss you?”

Sean laughed. Sam never had to ask and he told him so. The kiss was strong, passionate. The Deputy held him close. Their bodies reacted to each other as they always did. Sam moaning turned Sean on but he pulled away first.

“I want to make love to you, Chris.” Sam pulled him close again, sucking on his earlobe. “I won today and I want you…I want my slice of victory pie.”

“What flavor am I?”

“Mmm,” Sam moved his thighs apart, settling his body on top of Sean’s. “Sweet potato, all the way. With whipped cream on top.”

Sean smiled and Sam kissed his smile. Then he kissed his neck, throat, and shoulders. Sean relaxed as Sam’s hands roamed lower. He caressed his chest, belly, and thighs. Skipping the main course, Sam moved his hands underneath to cup Sean’s buttocks.

“Oh Sam.” Sean moaned, surrendering to Sam’s affection. He was surprised when Sam rolled off him. Opening his eyes, he watched Sam set up his pillows on the headboard and lean against them. Sean straddled him. Stroking Sam’s erection, he kissed him hard.

“Tell me what you want, Mr. Deputy White House Communications Director.”

“I want you.” He kissed him again. “I want to be inside of you…now Sean.”

The sexy smile never left his lover’s face. Sam was so hard and Sean grabbed the lube from the nightstand drawer. He had some fun pouring it on Sam before he slowly slid himself onto his erection. They both groaned when he was in deep. Gripping the bed sheets so he would not detonate, Sam thrust.

“Ohhh God, Sam.”

The way Sean was sitting couldn’t be good for his right knee, the one that always gave him problems. It would definitely be a Motrin morning. Not that Sam could concentrate on knee injuries while the sexiest man he knew rode him like a jockey.

“Sean! Oh my God! Yes, yes, ohhh yes!”

Sean slid back, balancing himself on his wrists. Sam thrust deep and it made him whimper so he did it again. Sean was desperate for him to hit that special spot. When he finally did, the way Sean cried out his name made Sam so hot he nearly climaxed. He held strong though, squeezing some lube onto his hand and working Sean’s hard cock.

“Oh Sam, good lord, oh baby, baby, baby, don’t stop!”

Sean being on top had quickly become one of Sam’s favorite positions. Not that he would ever describe his man as boring in bed, or even routine. Still when Sean was on top, something different came out…he was so wanton and so fucking sexy. Sam loved the way he whimpered and moaned; he never held anything back. Sam liked knowing how much he enjoyed their sex. Sean’s breathing changed, coming out in short rapid spurts as Sam stroked and thrust.

“That’s it Sean,” he cooed before moaning. “Come for me…you know you want to come for me.”

“Oh God.”

Sean started to tremble. Even in the dark Sam could see the sheen of his sweat. He let go, coming all over himself and Sam’s hand. The intensity of his climax excited Sam; he thrust wildly until he came too. Sam cried out Sean’s name, his head falling back onto the pillows. The older man groaned. 

He wanted to enjoy it, feel Sam go from rock hard to soft deep inside of him. His knee had other ideas. It was aching, so he reluctantly pulled away from Sam. Back on the mattress, Sean could only smile, letting out the breath he was holding as Sam cleaned up his wonderful mess.

“Jesus Christ.”

Sam laughed, spooning behind him and cocooning them in the blankets.

“Is your knee alright?” he asked.

“It'll survive. That was amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” Sean tilted his head back. “Kiss.”

Sam had no problem indulging him. They both wanted more; Sean turned and wrapped his arms around Sam. He ran his fingers through Sean’s hair.

“I love you so much Sean.”

“I love you too. I want you to go to California and run a Congressional campaign that kicks ass.”

Sam laughed again, kissing him. They went back to spooning. For a while they were lost in separate thoughts and finally Sean began to doze.

“Honey?”

“Hmm?” he took hold of Sam’s hand.

“When I come back, I want to live here with you.”

“I don’t want this just to be my place Sam. It should be our home; where we live our life together.”

“Well I want to come home then.”

“The door is always open.”

“OK.” Sam kissed the nape of his neck. “Sweet dreams.”

“Mmm, you too baby.”

***


End file.
